


BLAME || katara

by AV4TARKORRA



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dragons, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Firebending & Firebenders, Gay Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, Lesbian Character, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AV4TARKORRA/pseuds/AV4TARKORRA
Summary: Hiro of the Fire Nation wants to set the world on fire.In her prime, she was prophesied to destroy the Avatar and lead the siege on other nations, burning everything to the ground. Hymns spread by nomads contained legend that she was born from the Sun himself, graced with the power to incinerate anything in her path. Even the furthest corners of the world believed that the Dragon Warrior would soon claim the throne from the Fire Lord and lead troops of terror to dominate the other nations. Now, she is reduced to an outcast, a banished infidel with a bounty on her head the size of a world bank.Years later, she is approached by Prince Zuko on a mountaintop, who proposes a plan to destroy the reawakened Avatar and reclaim the Fire Lord's throne. Hiro agrees.In the siege of the Northern Water Tribe, Hiro meets a girl who controls the waves of the tide, who extinguished her flames with ease and escaped with the Avatar. The Dragon Warrior doesn't take kindly to being bested, especially by some low-life water tribe girl. And Hiro's injured pride shifts to a different target—Katara, who Hiro will burn to the ground with every ounce of strength she has left in her, no matter the consequence.
Relationships: Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Katara (Avatar)/Original Character(s), Katara (Avatar)/Original Female Character(s), Zuko (Avatar)/Original Character(s), Zuko (Avatar)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	BLAME || katara

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So Hiro is the main character of this story, but there is another OC that you will come across: Sanri. Sanri is Hiro's brother, who will be expanded upon later. For now, just know that Hiro is a fallen warrior, said to be the spawn of the Sun, yadda-yadda. I hope you guys enjoy this sapphic enemies-to-lovers crap that I came up with <3

Hiro of the Fire Nation didn't rely on anybody for three years. She never once visited the marketplace for fresh meat or medicine, nor did she ask others for directions. She learned from a young age that to become dead weight was to become a cadaver. Her parents were nomads who traveled all around the globe and fended for themselves. The brutality of nature hardened her into a self-sufficient warrior within the first five years of her life. Now that she was by herself, living out of a rickety hut on the side of a mountain, she knew exactly how to get by on her own.

The first few months in the Earth Kingdom were brutal. She had washed up on its shore, spitting saltwater and clutching the burn mark that engulfed her torso. Without a possession to her name, she wandered the land searching for a place where nobody would find her. She landed on a remote mountainous village just south of Ba Sing Se. She crafted her own weapons, chopped her own firewood, hunted her own food, and grew her own herbs. By the age of thirteen, she was living comfortably away from the Fire Nation that stuck a bounty on her. No person would dare trudge through the rocky and unstable terrain on which she built her house, so she was left alone. That's how she liked it; alone.

Hiro was many things, but a philanthropist was never one of them. She would go as far as to say that she hated humanity. Humans were the reason that she ended up on a cliffside, eating goat meat and tending to a garden. But her hatred toward humanity didn't start with her exile. War, genocide, greed, corruption. Everything bad about society inherently originated from society itself. That's why she lingered in the margin between nowhere and civilization. Being with others would only result in heartbreak or betrayal. There was no such thing as a good person. Hiro would rather rely on herself than others.

If she concentrated hard enough, the waxy red scar on her stomach still sizzled. It's said that fire conjured from the hands of Fire Lord Ozai burned worse than that from a regular bender. The flesh still harbored the brutal magic that was used to force her out of the Fire Nation, the blood humming with broken vows and perfidious consequences. The cells in that region of her body seemed to have consumed the flames themselves. Occasionally, she would wake up panting with her hand on her side, the skin broiling with the phantoms of a fire that was snuffed out three years prior. The scar would never go away. The salve helped, though.

The night previously was one of those nights, when sleep evaded her and was replaced by brimstone and sulfuric gas. She woke at dawn as the sun rose, sweating as she brushed off her sheepskin furs from her tense body, her skin glowing red from the anxiety of a nightmare. Before she could set anything on fire with her touch, she grabbed her salve from off of her nightstand and rubbed it placidly on her scar. The skin tingled as honey and comfrey root dissolved into her epidermis. The cooling sensation lessened the memories, bringing down her body temperature and blotting out the inferno that writhed under her skin. Sweat beaded down her face as she dropped the salve back on the counter. She spared a look at her hands. In the waning sunrise, they were glowing orange like a knife held too long under a flame. She stood to her feet, slipping on her sandals that rested beside her bed.

The hut shook with the force of the wind, rattling the floorboards and tittering the windows. She grappled for a bowl of cold water that rested on an asymmetrical table. She delicately dipped her hands in the water. Steam billowed from her fingers as they cooled off. She could've sworn that smoke was pluming from her nostrils as she exhaled. She wiped her now normal hands on her sleeping pants. The contents of her nightmare were now fuzzy, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. It likely contained the remnants of her final day in the Fire Nation. Hiro leaned against a tabletop to catch her breath, blotting her face with a towel.

It all ended on a cliffside similar to this one. The wind snapped her ceremonial robes against her body, blowing loose strands of black hair from her braid. She had tried to hold onto bravery, but she couldn't hide the quiver of her bottom lip as the Fire Lord approached her, his steps echoing against the obsidian stone beneath him. Her parents stood behind him like two gargoyles, their faces scrunched up with disappointment and disgust. Her brother lingered in the sidelines. The Fire Lord drew his hand like a weapon and brought it down in a vast arc, throwing red fire across her body. As she fell towards the water, she wondered if this was what it was like to die. For most of her life, she was taught how to kill without feeling remorse, how to lead men into bloodbaths and know that few would come out alive. She wondered if all that blood had been worth it. As her body collided with the waves, the bones in her arms snapping like twigs, the flames licking her torso were snuffed out and she was proclaimed dead.

She realized that her grip on the tabletop was so strong that it had splintered the wood around her fingers. She let go, her hand cramping. Her forearms still bent at an odd angle, a product of the fractures that she endured from a drop of that size into water. She stepped back, shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts. There would be no use in mulling over those memories any longer than she had to.

She slipped on her clothing and leather boots before grabbing her wooden pail from beside the front door. She didn't forget to wrap her knife belt around her waist, slotted with an assortment of both throwing and utility knives. As she stepped into the sunlight, shutting the wooden door behind her, her skin warmed to a healthy glow. Hiro bent her head toward the sun and straightened her posture. With a deep exhale, she set off down the cliffside. She had chosen her path carefully over the years. She never constructed a path or stairway just in case any nomad decided that her hut looked friendly. But, she'd learned how to use to the grips of her shoes to climb up and down the cliff face. She studied the mountain goats for months until she got the hang of hopping from one boulder to another. Now, it seemed like second nature. She glided down the rocks with the same agility as an earthbender.

The bottom of the mountain was surrounded by a superficial river. Her waterproof boots allowed her to walk through it without getting soggy. The forest beside it was dense with pine trees. The high altitude often dissuaded plant life from thriving, but the pine tree was the most formidable thing in the valley. The needles from the branches crunched underneath her boots as she entered the woods, following a mental map of the area toward her makeshift farm. Since her arrival in the Earth Kingdom, she'd mapped the woods near her house extensively. If she was dropped ten miles into it and told to get back to her house, she would be able to do so before sunset. She studied every rock and tree and landmark for at least thirty miles in every direction. But, the only place that she really spent an excessive amount of time was in her garden.

Situated in a sunlit meadow, cushioned by dandelions and berry bushes, Hiro's garden was fenced off near a softly-flowing riverbed. The ground was tough to dig through, and had few adequate nutrients. Only the enduring plants could survive the year. Her selection contained carrots, beets, peppers, tomatoes, and an assortment of herbs. The fencing was lined with spikes to ward off any human pests from entering. Hiro reached toward the fence and untied the complicated knot that she had constructed with chains. As she stooped down to collect some carrots and tomatoes for dinner that night, placing the salvaged veggies into her wooden pail, she stiffened as she heard a noise.

She turned toward its source. The wind whistled through the gaps in her fence, the water of the river bubbling a few feet from her. And yet, over the noise, she heard the unmistakable snap of a twig. Her black eyes narrowed into slits as she examined the treeline. Nothing seemed to be amiss. Yet, she felt as if she was not alone. Hiro had always been taught to trust her instincts. Her firebending teachers had emphasized the importance of gut reactions. More often than not, your stomach told you things that your brain could not. Hiro picked up her pail of vegetables and walked out of the fence, not bothering to close the door. As quietly as possible, she placed the pail down near the treeline and reached for her knife belt.

There was a sharp sound of metal on cloth as she removed a throwing knife, bending her legs and stepping into the treeline. She exhaled, centering herself as she closed her eyes to listen. The breeze sliced through the pine needles. The river's gurgle was muted now, further away. There was a chitter as a bird flew above her in the canopy. And, yet, there was a peculiar crunching sound that disrupted her from her thoughts. She willed her concentration to narrow, amplifying the sound. Boots on pine needles. Hiro reopened her eyes, flicking them toward where it was coming from. A shadow moved just beyond, its stature clearly human. In half a second, the knife had left her hand.

The power of her throw radiated through her body as the blade sliced through the air, whistling like a steam engine. There was a burst of light, and Hiro's heart leaped into her throat as she realized that it was fire. The knife wedged into the trunk of a tree inches from the person's face. The hilt rattled from the force. Now, standing in the light created by his own hands, was the singular person that Hiro never imagined she would see again.

He had gotten taller since the last time Hiro saw him. His scar had cemented to his face—an irritated and waxy red that stood out against his caramel-colored eyes. The framework of his body was more muscular, more toned. Hiro's shock must've shown on her face because Zuko gave a low chuckle.

"Hello, old friend," he said. His voice was deep, raspy. He had been traveling for a while.

A sudden burst of anger overcame her as she looked at the banished prince. How dare he show up in her forest? How dare he even show his face? The anger turned her blood into rivers of molten lava as she propelled herself forward. She willed the anger to turn into fire, snapping her wrists to cause flames to lick her skin. She took a step forward and slashed her arm across her body, sending a wave of fire toward Zuko. Zuko was seemingly prepared for this, and deflected the flame, sending Hiro's fire into the trunks of a few trees.

Hiro stepped back into the meadow as Zuko sent a retributive jab of fire toward her. She sliced through his flames as if it was butter. She kicked her feet into the air, driving her center of momentum outward as she flipped head over heels, sending flames from the edges of her toes toward him. As she landed, feet sinking into the mud of the riverbed, Zuko advanced. Her martial arts trick had left him unintimidated but mildly surprised. This was enough time to ready another throwing knife from her belt. She unsheathed it and raised her arm above her head to gain as much momentum as possible before gliding it across her body. The blade flew just past his neck as he ducked sideways, sending a useless bout of fire after it. He wasn't expecting her to use weapons. Hiro used this surprise against him as she ambushed, her fists igniting into twin flames.

She aimed a punch at his neck, which he blocked. He jabbed his foot at her ribcage, but Hiro grabbed his foot and twisted. Zuko's momentum worked against him as he fell to the mud, his legs scrambling for ground. Hiro pounced. She planted her knee on his chest to pin him to the ground, using her foot to keep one of his wrists tethered to the earth. As Zuko struggled to work himself out from underneath her, Hiro unsheathed another knife from her belt and stuck it under his chin.

Zuko stopped moving as he recognized the sting of the blade, his legs halting and hands going limp. The edge of Hiro's knife didn't waver as Zuko swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Hiro took this as a chance to look at him, for the first time in three years. She was surprised by how much he changed. He grew into his face. He was once a pudgy and chubby-cheeked boy. Now, his face was long and angular. His hair was shaved, all except for a ponytail that sat at the apex of his scalp.

Hiro let out a breathy laugh as she tightened her grip on her knife. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't slit your throat and water my soil with your blood."

Zuko maintained eye contact. Hiro could tell that he was looking at her too, vague interest portrayed on his features. "I crossed every single sea looking for you. I need your help."

Hiro laughed once more, a bitter one that reverberated in her chest. "I spend my nights enamored with the fact that I'm finally free. You've taken everything I had; why do you want to take that from me, too?"

"We need you, Hiro," Zuko said, his eyes narrowing as a certain seriousness took over his face. "You were the Dragon Warrior once, and you can be the Dragon Warrior again."

Hiro snarled before releasing her knife from Zuko's throat. She stabbed her knife into the dirt beside Zuko's head. Zuko didn't jump. Hiro stood to her feet, and Zuko scrambled to his, brushing the dirt off of his clothing. He still wore black and red, the symbol of the Fire Nation. Hiro never understood his allegiance to the country that exiled him. Hiro grabbed for the latch on her garden and reknotted the chains. With her back turned to him, she spoke.

"You'd better have a good explanation. I can still kill you, you know." Hiro sent a half-glance back toward him. "Like when we used to play-fight as kids."

"I think you just proved that."  
  
  
─────────────  
  


Hiro didn't have two pillows to share around her dinner table, so Zuko had to settle for a sheepskin under his knees. Hiro poured jasmine tea into two clay cups before kneeling on the ground herself, placing one cup in front of Zuko and keeping one in her hands.

"You've grown," Zuko said, blowing off the steam from his tea.

Hiro narrowed her cat-like eyes menacingly. "Let's skip the chit-chat, Prince. I would like to know how you found me, first of all."

Zuko set his cup down without drinking it. Perhaps he thought she'd poisoned him. Hiro might've been offended at this if she didn't realize that she had considered it as she made the tea. A dead Zuko would be better than a living one. Zuko readjusted himself, placing his hands on his knees. "I was stopping in the town for supplies when I overheard some kids talking about the witch that lives on the mountain. I figured it was worth a shot."

"Do I seem like a witch to you?" Hiro asked as she set down her cup on the wooden table. "It's unlike you to follow a hunch."

"I've been following many hunches the past few days," Zuko exhaled.

Hiro pursed her lips. The silence in the room was filled by whistling wind. She turned to him, her black eyes clashing with his brown ones. "And why did you want to find me so bad?"

"I've been wanting to find you for three years. Now, though, it's become more important." Zuko turned his gaze away from Hiro's glare, focusing on the asymmetrical table. "The Avatar has returned. You're better than I ever was when it came to fighting. The poems talk about it. _She fought like a roaring hurricane, her fists like—"_

"— _Twin bolts of thunder_. Yes, I get it." Hiro sniped. She didn't like being reminded of her past. "What does the Avatar have to do with me?"

Zuko hesitated. "I need your help in capturing him."

Hiro masked her surprise by sipping her tea. It burned her tongue, scalding her tastebuds. She knew well enough of the weight that the Avatar held over Zuko. Upon his banishment, Fire Lord Ozai said that the only way that he would accept Zuko back to the Fire Nation was if he captured the Avatar. It was meant to be a joke, considering that everyone believed the Avatar to be long-dead. The Avatar had vanished for a hundred long years. But, Zuko took it seriously. Apparently, he had been all around the world hunting for an old man who had mastered all four elements. Hiro both envied and despised Zuko. He had a way back into the Fire Nation. If he secured this old man, he would be allowed back into his family, gifted his throne, and would become the next Fire Lord. But, Hiro couldn't imagine going back to the Fire Nation. Again, his allegiance to the country made her skin crawl. Looking at the red scar that covered his eye, Hiro wondered why Zuko would ever want to go back.

"You need my help in capturing him," Hiro repeated. She let out a humorless laugh. "That's hilarious. What would be in it for me?"

Zuko looked as if he'd been waiting for her to ask this. He most likely had come prepared. He knew all too well about Hiro's selfish nature. He wiped his hands on his pants and turned his eyes back toward her. "Your brother is with the Avatar. He's traveling in the pack with two water tribe members. If I get the Avatar, you get to kill Sanri."

Hiro couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. Her posture stiffened at the mention of her brother. Ah, her brother. Sanri, the weak little mutt who couldn't firebend his way out of a pile of dry kindling. Her blood brother, born on the same night as herself but without the legend behind his name. She had wondered for years what the little traitor was doing. The thought of Sanri made her blood curdle, her eyes twinkle with the fire of the sun. She'd fantasized for years about how she'd kill him. He took her life away, after all. He had made her into an outcast. Now, the thought of hunting him down gave her the same broiling satisfaction that a lioness received before sinking her incisors into the flank of a gazelle. Zuko had struck a chord in her heart, and he knew it, too. The exiled prince sat on his heels, his point proven.

"Do you accept?" Zuko asked.

In that moment, Hiro didn't care about being in the same room as Zuko. She didn't care about the fact that she'd be at sea, hunting down the Avatar for weeks on end. She didn't even care about facing other Fire Nation people for the first time in years. All that mattered was the adrenaline of the chase, the blood that coursed through her veins, the hunger for sizzling flesh and tantalizing murder. She was going to kill her brother.

"Yes," Hiro replied, sipping again at her jasmine tea. She welcomed the burn against her tongue.


End file.
